Immortal: 7th Blood Born
by Project X
Summary: Life is like a story; there's a beginning, middle, and end. But what if there was no end? What kind of story-...no; what kind of life would that be? All I know is I'm getting tired of it all. Immortality is a curse, mortality is a blessing. My name is Connor, and my story never ends.
1. Preview

**Author's Note: **_This is a piece of original work only on this website for a temporary amount of time and as said it is just a preview to this story. If you would like to keep up with the full installment of this story go to WorthyofPublishing . com and look for Jamy Catalyst._

_I'd like to thank, from the bottom of my heart, these people. They've inspired me to continue my dream and one day, when this book is published, they'll be in the 'Thanks Too' part of it, I promise._

_SaYue-San_

_Mathea2005_

_Pancoon_

_BMD-X_

_Fox Mew Brittany_

_AzureSonata23_

_You guys are amazing! The best inspiration a writer could ever ask for, and I will never forget you!_

"**Immortal": _The Seventh Blood Born_**

Preview 1

**Year:** _2333_

**Date:** _24__th__ of September_

**Location:** _The Heart of the New Empire in Garlend, Empirical Chicago_

**Goal:** _Hunting down Morthal_

Garlend hadn't changed at all in the hundred years of its existence. It was the heart of the new old empire, it was new because there was an empress ruling now, it was old because the old emperor had built and designed it. The buildings taller than sky scrapers, made entirely out of crystal glass, an unbreakable material. The sun would rise but its powerful rays could not break through the shaded bio-dome overhead. Instead a fake sun that still powered everything solar powered would rise, a projection made by the bio-dome. It would still rain, snow, sleet, but never storm to such a degree that one might get hurt. Protecting the servants of the Empire was rule number one for the builders of these things. Every nickel of raised taxes would go into such frivolous but helpful contraptions.

I felt sick without being able to feel the real sun. How the people of the future could stand this was beyond me. That wasn't even the worst of it all, robots, androids disguised as humans were around every corner. They were either makeshift police, or doing something else a human should be doing. Then there was the fact that sidewalks weren't sidewalks but side-don't-walks. A belt was installed into some machine somewhere, you'd step on it and it'd take you directly to where you wanted to go. Yet they wonder why such a large population of humanity is overweight. I still walked and made the people riding the belt beside me gasp. I suppose I was out of style; old. _Yeah, really old._

I had my hands in my black leather jacket, a clothing item that was outlawed years ago thanks to an all eco and animal friendly emperor. Then that emperor was taken from power when they found out he was a little too friendly with animals. _That poor dog-bear_. The cars were pretty messed up too, hovering and being self-controlled as they drove their rider places while they sipped on wine and took naps. This was probably the worst era mankind had ever seen, yet the most successful. There were barely any murders, the economy was good, there were no wars, nothing really bad ever happened. The worst it got was cheating boyfriends and rebellious teens,_ thank God that never changes_.

I'd say I was culture shocked but it was more like culture frustrated. Some of my favorite things were outlawed. My long leather jacket, my iPod, my sunglasses, and my black leather boots. Not to mention some of my favorite sports and activities didn't exist anymore. Sometimes, in a place like this where everyone looked down their noses at you, I missed the Sanctum, and that was saying something.

But I was on a mission, and even the distraction of analyzing this time period wasn't going to stop me, I had to find Morthal before he figured out I was here. So I took off into a sprint, another thing that was illegal, and my boots bounded against the ground as puddles splashed around me. It even started to rain again, the overhead bio-dome sky darkening with clouds.

The buildings only got taller and more crystal like as I ran, a tree on every other corner, shedding cherry blossoms at the wrong time of year. The trees ended up being mechanical, set up to release oxygen like a normal plant would. This place almost seemed Twilight Zone worthy compared to the era of the 20th century. I missed those days, when you could walk into a restaurant and order anything you wanted, instead of a robot telling you you've had too much butter lately so you're gonna have to pick something else. Let alone if I go somewhere to eat here, I'd walk in and they'd scan me for my information chip that was supposed to be located in the back of my neck, it wouldn't be there and every android in the place would try and turn me in. It was a pain to zap so many bots out with my rings. So I just stuck to not eating, not like that'd really hurt me.

The good thing about not having an Info Chip though was when an automated commercial hovercraft mirror _thing_ came up to me, it'd scan me, go blank, and blow up. I'd smile and laugh and run off before anyone noticed. The back alleys of cities like this would usually hold resistance movements waiting to happen, but on the streets here there was this drug called Contentment, and it did just that, so even the thugs and goons of the streets were content to just sit back and giggle. _How horrid_. A place like this makes me itch to start another war, but the last time ended _way_ to badly for me to ever try that again.

So, _right_, I was running; running down a left sided street, dodging small hover cars as I tried to get to the Capital building. The Capital was actually an old sky scraper, the last one from the original Chicago back in the good 'ol days. It had been patched up so many times though; you could barely recognize it, that almost made me cry. They take away sports cars, motorcycles, hot shirtless all male Italian soccer, leather, and bars; I had a bit of a grudge against these people. Not to mention what they've done to the Internet. Yet, once again I find myself playing hero, when clearly I was just a renegade. I was about to save these ignorant lazy people from one of the greatest dangers in all of time. I had to take responsibility though; I had taken a part in his creation after all.

_Morthal_.

I leapt over car after car, my stamina a lot higher than a normal person's, my muscles leaner too, not because of any enhancements, _no_, just because I had a lot of exercise on a daily basis, for over a very long stretch of time. The cars were only a little taller than me and they were pretty slow, so there was no chance one would hit me. So it's raining, I'm running, and I'm getting stared at by everyone on the side-don't-walks. No pressure, just an ordinary day in my life here in 2333.

I do a roll, I duck, leap, sprint, and find myself on the steps of the Capital building. I run up them like Rockey, but with no feel of accomplishment, just guilt. I run up and a machine on the door scans me, an eyeball bot up above the shining crystal door. Red lights start flashing as the eye panics when it scans me and finds no info chip. I raise my right hand, around my middle finger is a special silver ring with a special glowing purple gem, light emits from the gem, a powerful and intense purple laser beam shoots out and hits where I aim it; at the eyeball a few inches above my head. The ring was specially made by a friend of mine a long time ago, when it was made this type of tech was called magic, and for all he knew it was magic. He made me two, one for my left hand middle finger too, with a red gem, same laser. Back then I was heralded as a prophesied hero, when really I just found an artifact and brought it back to the temple it belonged to. A hobby of mine; time travel and playing backwards Indiana Jones.

The rings are very handy though, if I don't like something, I just shoot a red or purple glowing laser beams at it, and then _BOOM_, all better. Time was running out, and even though I had a borrowed the Time-Line Transcender that was on my wrist, I was still in a hurry. I didn't want to have to do this twice, create an alternate time line where Morthal wins. I'd hate myself if I did that.

So I blow up the security eye-bot, kicked in the door, and went running. When robots started piling up in front of me, as I stood in a clear all glass lobby; them blocking the elevator and the automated stairs, I knew what I had to do. This was one of those moments when I was glad all the security was bots instead of people, I'd had my fair share of hurting humans, and let me tell you; I didn't like it. I swore my life to protecting humanity, the very reason why I was banished from the Sanctum. So I wasn't about to let them down now.

I tugged on the long handle sticking out from my left thigh, my right hand on it. There, in a special leather belt loop, is sheathed naked a long silver great sword. She weighed what feels like a ton to some, but just the right weight to me. Her name is Angel; for the wings carved elegantly into the hilt. She has served me for what feels like forever, never once breaking or failing me. She was my partner in this all and I had a growing admiration for her, if anyone ever called her an '_it'_, they'd feel her sharp tip. She was the last and only gift ever given to me by the master of the Sanctum.

All I have to do is swing and robot bits go everywhere. My sword takes them out like a lawnmower cutting grass. There are a hundred of them, filling the lobby, it takes Angel five minutes to turn them all into scrap metal, then I'm climbing up the automated stairs. You know, in my day these fancy automated stairs were called escalators. Oh dear God, I did not just have an _'in my day' _old person moment! Seriously, I need to get back to 2029!

I know Morthal will be on the top floor, the one that holds the empress' throne, the throne that overlooks every inch of the bio-dome covered city. He'll be up there talking her ear off, impressing her with his wisdom, then he'd whammy her with an artifact from a temple I had long ago saved. It was a cube full of lies; it had been hidden in an Aztec temple, a powerful piece of ancient technology that had been lost on purpose and hidden away. They called it 'The Power of Hidden Truths', being as they believed lies were just hidden truths, or that hidden truths were lies. The Aztecs were smart, very very very intelligent people; they just didn't understand the power they had truly unlocked. Veritas sure didn't appreciate 'The Cube of Lies' being created. It was like an invasion of her privacy.

But that didn't matter right now. As I climbed those stairs I knew Morthal would use all of those lies, the empress' included, to intimidate her. Then he'd get her to announce him High King of the New Empire and he'd change everything to darkness and mind controlled zombies. I had to stop him, it was my job, well actually it wasn't, but over the years I'd made it my problem.

It took me a little while to scale the heights, my arm muscles tightening with fatigue; it had been months since I last ate. While that couldn't kill me it would still cause fatigue throughout my muscles and body, I'd even still get stomach cramps. When I finally made it to the top I was breathing hard, sweat down my still drenched with rain face, my hands on my bent knees. The automatic regular metal door was right in front of me, and I could sense he was there; Morthal. I put on my game face, deep breaths over, as I rushed in, right hand at the hilt of Angel.

"Please! NOOOO!" Screams from the young empress rang out into the completely see-through glass room. It was made out like a balcony but also a huge office, the size of a normal hotel lobby. Computers were tossed everywhere, and I mean handheld computers that would pop out of things that looked like wrist watches, also computers that looked like iPads but had projections coming out of them. Screaming and whimpering was echoing throughout the poorly color coordinated room. God the decoration schemes of the future are horrible! It's like the 60's all over again, and I should know I've visited there once, just for the music I can assure you!

I saw the empress' solid gold throne a couple of feet in front of me. There; _there_ Morthal was, gripping the roots of the poor girl's hair, holding the cube to her face as lies were pushed into her. It was a horrible process, like having your soul poked at, so many horrible and painful lies getting forcibly pushed down your throat.

Morthal hadn't aged since I last saw him in Wraith Meadow in 2163. The answer to that was strapped to his wrist, a Time-Line Transcender just like mine. His hair was still snow white; he still looked like a healthy and fit forty year old, his dark blue eyes full of insanity, an all-black get up on. He looked evil, his voice sounded evil, and he was evil. There was no _misunderstood_ about it, he had snapped quite a bit a long time ago. Although I really couldn't judge, I was the reason he snapped after all.

"Morthal!" My feminine yet commanding voice shouted over the echoes, the room suddenly silent as Morthal slowly turned to me. His dark eyes met my deep emerald ones, dark bags under my eyes, his perfectly clear and fine. He lost no sleep over those he slaughtered while I had lost the ability to sleep entirely. His blank and wrinkled face suddenly twisted into an insane grin as he saw me, eyes twinkling, his hands coming away from the empress'.

His hands lifted and with them the cube, it still glowed white and black with lies and half hidden truths. If that was how it glowed then he had not shown the darkest parts of the ancient device to the girl, her mind was still intact. Good, I hadn't failed then.

"You're late." His deep and soothing voice stated, that soothing tone hiding so much darkness and twistedness. It was unbelievable a man like him could have such good looks with such age and with such insanity. Destiny was clumsy after all.

"I had a couple of hundred robots to-"

"No excuse!" He shouted, rage rumbling in his throat, as he cut me off. His eyes were dark now, but the look on his face was that of a cat playing with its food. We'd danced this dance before, it always ended the same, him bleeding yet still alive, retreating with blood staining his pearly colored insane grin. "You've once killed a thousand wraiths while pursuing me, they never slowed you down. A couple of androids should have been child's play." He says, now leaning against the golden throne, so cool and calm as the game begins yet again.

"Well, some of us aren't as young as we used to be." I say, shrugging my shoulders as I try not to sweat in anticipation of his next move.

He plays with the cube, sighs, bored with my come back. "Yes, you are getting a bit duller to fall for such an obvious trap." He sighs again as he states this so nonchalantly, as if it's nothing. But the statement is news to me and my eyes widen, breath quickens.

I take a long gulp as I look up, knowing that's where it is. There is a giant spike kept in mid-air by what looked like ancient symbols, but what was actually a very complex way to manipulate gravity, a tractor beam effect. Morthal snaps his fingers and before I can blink my entire world is engulfed in pain.

Everything is black, Death greeting me like an old friend. My soul floats around in the peaceful darkness, my eyes opened but closed, me naked but clothed. It was Limbo, yet again. I knew I was dead because there was no heart beat in my body, the spike cutting me directly in two, with all the gore to go with it. I only get what feels like seconds to feel the peace, before my soul is getting dragged back into my body by force. I used to fight against the pull, tooth and nail, so that I could finally stay dead, I have learned though that it is impossible for me to rest. _No rest for the wicked or weary_.

I open my eyes again, to most likely what is minutes later in real time, even though it had felt like hours in Limbo, to find I am tied up and fully healed. I know I was ripped clean in two though by the fact all of the clothes on my body are sliced cleanly down the middle._ Gah, and I loved this jacket too! _I struggle in the ropes, but I am exhausted, a full body healing taking up all my left over stamina and energy. I look up and see I am the one sitting in the throne now, looking out at what used to be Chicago, a city I once liked, a city I used to visit for the pizza and people, a city I once met Al Capone in and nearly got shot up by Tommy Guns.

My vision's still a little blurry as I looked over my shoulder. The empress is sitting beside me, still sane but tied up too. She's gaping at me, face pale with fright, eyes wide with shock. She looks like she's just seen a ghost, to tell the truth; I got that look a lot. I just shrugged, took a deep breath through my sore throat, and smiled at her.

"So," I feel fingers in my dark hair suddenly, petting me mockingly. "I'm so glad you're awake." Morthal shows his face then, coming around me, with what looked like a tiny camcorder in one hand the cube in the other. "You know I've never recorded your resurrection process before," He pauses and smiles at me, waving the camcorder in his hand. My eyes widen, and I can't breathe again. "I wonder how the world would react if they knew Immortals existed? Hmm?" He smiles tauntingly at me, happy to see I was good and shocked, more like worried though.

If the world ever found out that there was a race of human immortals out there the Sanctum _would_ find a way to kill me this time. If being banished for insisting on protecting humanity wasn't enough, this would just be over the edge. I can imagine it now; Corrina hefting me up like nothing as I'm chained to an anvil and dropped into an ocean, to wait until another great draught for me to be able get out. She'd do it too, no doubt about it, she never really liked me.

But of course I had a few tricks up my own sleeve. That trick being kicking the camcorder out of Morthal's hands, so that it's completely destroyed as it hits the glass of the wall. I grin at him and he punches me in the face, _hard_, it hurts. He actually breaks my jaw, I tilt it back into place and it heals instantly. Morthal still looks enraged as I glare right back at him.

"Mister Antitheus? Why are you doing this?" The young and innocent empress asks as her purple artificially colored eyes blink at us. Back and forth, she still gives me a _'freaked out'_ look when her eyes actually land on me, I understood why. It's not every day you see someone cut in half then regenerate their entire body back together in a matter of minutes.

"A long time ago you'd of caught it." I state, Morthal letting me speak as he just played with the cube, completely uninterested in the young ruler.

"What do you mean?" She asks, her voice like milk and honey, that was most likely what got her elected in the first place. Easy on the eyes, nice in the voice, politics in the future becoming nothing more than a glorified beauty pageant. _Horrifying isn't it?_

"His alias, Antitheus, a long time ago people knew that that's _Devil_ in Latin." The girl still looked confused as I explained. I sighed and shook my head. "Don't you see, Morthal-Antitheus _is _the Devil! Or, _really_, the closest you'll ever see before the afterlife." I explain, frustrated, tired of her ignorance. I could feel Morthal grinning at me and I grimaced. He's always been far too proud of his alias.

"Astray is right." Morthal stated, walking back over to the empress, leaning on her. "And you are simply a means to an end, a nothing, just useful enough to help trap my… _nemesis_." With that stated Morthal finished what he had been doing to her with the cube in seconds. Her eyes blacked out, tongue dry and sticking out, mind completely gone; dry by the forced in lies from the cube. She dies instantly, thankfully. "Now," Morthal turns back to me, the cube filled with another soul consumed by lies. "Where were we?" He asks and I just snarl at him.

These were one of those moments I wished I was never visited by Garron three hundred years ago. The year 2011 was when I was born, the year 2029 when I turned eighteen, also the year I died the first time and was resurrected back as an immortal, to forever stay that age for the rest of eternity and to never be able to die. I was invited into the Sanctum after Garron saved me from the morgue. I wish I was never born sometimes, that way someone else could have been immortal instead of me. If only my mom had waited one more second to have me.

But there was no changing that. I am in fact three hundred years old, I still look eighteen, and I am still banished and alone.

**My name is Connor, or as the Sanctum calls me Astray; and I am an Immortal.**

**End Note: **_Please be as honest as possible. Should I change a few things, was it to cliché, should I mess with the character? R&R_


	2. Prologue

"**Immortal Wanderer"**

**-**_**The Seventh Billion Born**_** -**

Prologue**-**

"_L__ife is like a story."_

**A**** door opens.** Four sets of fluorescent lights flicker on, the _-mmmmm-_ noise following the sudden appearance of light in the gloomily blackened room. In addition to that there is another sound, squeaky wheels on a rolling slab, getting closer and becoming louder.

Two tall young men, the same who opened the door and turned on the lights, roll in a gurney. The wheels are old, made up of rusted, dark tinted metal that needs to be oiled or replaced. The two young men roll in the table with some trouble. They move it through the door and into the middle of the room, with that done they stop and take a breather.

The two fresh-faced boys are wearing scrubs, a deep-sea blue color, with nametags pinned to their uniforms. The one with freckles, a dark colored mullet, and a large build; his nametag says Randy. The other with pimples, a crew cut, and a thin waist; his says Tim.

Above the names on the tags, in italics, it says: _Loretto Hospital Morgue Attendants_. The two attendants lean against the pull out lockers in the damp and dimly lighted morgue. Randy offers Tim a cigarette from his back pocket. Tim scrunches his nose up at the offer and shakes his head.

"I already told you I don't smoke!" Tim whines, his adolescent voice still high pitched and scratchy. He runs his right hand through his hair and sighs in frustration.

Randy shrugs and takes a long drag from the newly lit cigarette, letting the smoke past his lips in practiced ease moments later. The older boy lets his shoulders go lax, leaning in further against the lockers. "Just thought you might like something to take your mind off the body." He admits.

Tim's lips tighten, his jaw clenched, almost as if he's trying to bite back a very crude remark. Instead he says: "I only knew her from middle school, it's not a big deal." He tries to sound nonchalant, but fails miserably at it.

"'Said she was you're friend _man_." Randy counters in a deep baritone voice, his hand finding Tim's shoulder.

Tim shrugs the hand off. "Only when we were kids. It was a long time ago." Tim thickly swallows down a hot lump in his throat. Against Tim's many protests Randy pats his shoulder.

The older boy exhales another cloud of nicotine filled smoke, moments of silence filling the small city morgue. Suddenly Randy goes to grab the small tablet computer that was magnetized to one end of the gurney. The tablet is released with an audible _-click-._ He taps his fingers on the computer's small screen and a hologram is projected from it.

"She had a broken hyoid bone, scapula, clavicle, sternum, rib, humerus, sacrum, coccyx, fibula, and patella." Randy read the list of broken bones from the tablets 3-D diagram. He hissed in pain filled sympathy for the once living person. "'Says she got run over by a truck. Didn't survive but for a few minutes afterwards. _Poor girl._" The older boy says sadly before putting the tablet back on the end of the gurney, it snaps back, metal meeting magnet, and Randy steps aside.

"I thought…." Tim utters, his voice just above a whisper. He takes a deep breath, trying to push himself to say something, not for his sake but for her's. "I thought she was pretty, when we were kids I had a crush on her the moment I saw her. Then… _Well_ then I actually meet her." Tim doesn't look up from his shoes, his arms crossed as he stares at his feet shyly.

"What? Was she evil or _somethin_?" Randy asks with a curious tone, now leaning against the side of the gurney, every now and again looking at the sheet covered girl out of the corner of his eye.

"'_Or somethin.'_" Tim echoes, shaking his head. "She was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, always had to be in the spotlight. But…. But it wasn't like those brats who are attention hogs. She was good in the spot light, when she had your attention she'd always give you a show." The younger man explained, a smile slowly sliding onto his face, eyes distant, as he remembers. "She was a good kid, I bet she would have made an amazing woman."

"Sounds like it." Randy agrees, fingers lightly brushing the sheet beside him as his other hand gently holds his cigarette. "I saw her when they first brought her in. Thin, good tan, nice breasts, pretty hair, and a sharp face; _kinda_ reminds me of those sexy fox ladies from those fantasy comics. Except her skin was too pale and she wasn't wearing any makeup." The older boy compared, imagining the corpse beside him with a fluffy foxtail and fox ears.

Tim scowled, grumbling about how Randy barely ever thought with his upstairs brain instead of his downstairs brain. The younger boy shook his head and began to stand up straight, walking over to the gurney with some reluctance. "If she was still alive she would punch you, and _hard_, for that stupid comment!" Tim growled out through gritted teeth.

Randy laughed, nicotine smoke flying from his throat in puffs. "Sounds like my kind of woman." He smirks with a tooth filled grin.

"She was only a kid!" Tim yells, his face red, ears burning, as his anger begins to boil over in him.

"Whoa, whoa, Timmy! It's not like I'm _gonna_ screw your dead girlfriend!" Randy puts up his hands in mock surrender, a light sadistic grin on his smug face.

"Connor Ever was not my girlfriend! She was a cocky, arrogant, idiot who had attention issues and acted too much like a child for her own good!" Tim's cheeks are tomato red as he yells his lungs out, hiding his regret with anger. He turns to stomp out of the room and leaves the unsaid- _'And I miss her'_-hanging in the air like a dark smoldering cloud.

Randy rolls his eyes after he watches _Temper Tantrum Timmy_ storm out of the morgue. He breathes in one last lungful of smoke before taking the cigarette and putting it out on the sheet, embers going through the thin cloth and hitting the dead skin beneath it. Randy then discards the cigarette by throwing it over his shoulder and walks out of the morgue, turning the lights off behind him.

The room, now devoid of life, is dark. The only light there is is cast in through the window, the lunar light breaking the darkness to shine down onto the covered cadaver. Clouds liter the sky outside, the full moon only half exposed. The clouds shift and slide, and then the moon finally becomes completely revealed.

Slowly something happens in that morgue; something that only happens once a century, something dark and mysterious, something ancient and forever. Under the white cloth sheet something stirs on a molecular level. A piece of something hidden comes out from its hiding spot and chains itself to the soul that once belonged inside that corpse. It twists and spins, linking itself into the spiral staircase of the cadaver's genetic makeup.

Torturously slowly something sacred happens on that gurney, the staircase gets a new step and it spins and spins and spins, weaving something completely new inside of the body.

By the time the moon reaches the center of the black streaked sky the molecular change is finished. The blessing, or the curse, has been permanently instilled in the body. A gift which cannot be given back, _not ever_.

Then the small changes begin to take place. Blood begins to flow again, the skin gets its golden tint back, and the lungs begin to work. Oxygen goes into the mouth, through the lungs, within the blood stream, and slowly unto the brain. Muscles receive the oxygen and blood; they stretch and twist, then move abruptly. The body launches forward into a sitting position, a gasp of breath comes from the lips, the heart pumps the blood faster and faster, and then the eyes finally shoot open.

The mark the embers left behind sizzles off the skin as the soul is reinserted. Deep, quick, and shallow breaths are being taken as the body tries to steady the heart. Sweat glands secrete again, and the girl feels slightly numb. The last thing to kick back into gear is the brain. For a long time the girl just sits there, unable to think, but when she can, and when everything comes back to her, like a photo flashing memories back into her Amygdala, she can only think to do one thing.

Connor Ever curses as loudly as she possibly can.


End file.
